Monday, 22 April 2013

All Hail Flora...

Enough is enough, tomorrow is essay day so this is why I am blogging on here. I'm seriously done with this essay and it is a prime example of how something truly inspiring and beautiful can become a drudge, which is rather sad. Like the time I had to write an essay on how a joke is constructed. The funniest joke suddenly became tedious essay fodder and I lost my sense of humour. As anyone would.

This weekend has been otherwise glorious; from waking up yesterday morning with a need to plunge my hands into damp compost, to creating a lovely simple lunch for a frazzled friend. Our balcony has remained spartan for a year out of sheer laziness but it was as if the spring suddenly demanded adulation from me yesterday. With no further questions, my lovely and I presented ourselves promptly at the sunny Temple of Flora and offered libations for greenery and containers.

I mean, with no planning and no idea what plants to buy, what could possibly go wrong? Surely all you need is soil, containers, tiny plants with pretty labels saying 'red' and the rest is up to nature. I have a couple of books on container gardening but they are written by experts so what would they know? Oh.

Yesterday ended with a friend's birthday party at a very nice tapas place and as usual when we arrived I was famished. And I may have over indulged in the dainties on offer. I consoled myself in the knowledge that I had at least done some outdoor non toe related exercise, as well as the exercises as recommended in my diet book. Not the diet from the diet book, but merely the exercises. Obviously. After collapsing tiredly and fatly in to bed, I was expecting to sleep til noon.

Other people had different ideas and were loudly daring to tiptoe carefully around the carpeted place at 6am. I mean it was *stomp stomp...* er, sorry, *rustle rustle rustle* and being the princess I am I woke up. After a tired grump for about 5 mins, I was drawn downstairs by the sunshine and lure of tea. And decided that a coffee by the river would be just the job. So by 8am we were standing by the glorious fresh Thames looking at the new architecture of the city, drowsily watching the river rhythms and exchanging pleasantries with the London Marathon police.

After a home cooked breakfast which turns out to be diet approved, my lovely and I went about our respective business. I had invited a friend over for lunch so hit the local shops before once again smacking the essay where it hurt. I kept interrupting this effort to run out and admire my new plants and check up on gently nurtured Basil who seriously resents being kept outside after warm ASDA nannying. He has threatened a culinary strike so we may end up making pesto this week. He has been warned. Although I took pity on him this evening and wrapped him in cling film for insulation.

My friend turned up with sparkles and I provided a healthy lunch of dips and crudites, as well as a sympathetic ear. So as day 6 on the diet, it wasn't too bad. With aesthetics in mind I had done an arrangement in red and green (peppers, broccoli, tomatoes, lettuce, beans) which, if the geraniums and begonias had been out, would have matched perfectly. There was an incident with a hot buttery pitta bread but I am sure that the Spring Goddess approved afternoon nap more than ate up the calories in that.